


Losing Count

by MechBull



Series: Bucket Lists [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 12:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11463594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: “It’s him!” Jemma hissed over Daisy’s attempt at speaking.“Him who?”“The guy – the engineer! From the Sandbox. It’shim!”“What do you – wait! The guy from the hotel?!”Alternative ending to Taj Mahal





	Losing Count

**Author's Note:**

> There's a confrontation in this that gets a little aggressive, which might be triggery if you're sensitive to that kind of thing.

Jemma stood in front of the mirror as she brushed her hair. The first thing she did when she got back to the base from her Walk of Absolutely No Shame Whatsoever was take a shower. Now, she wanted breakfast. She wondered if Daisy was up yet, because she definitely wanted to share at least a PG-13 version of her previous night.

The Jemma of a year or so ago would have felt too guilty, would have asked for his number and at least pretended like she planned to call. The Jemma of several years ago would never have done it in the first place. The Jemma of today maybe had a few regrets, maybe might have liked to get to know him better but…she was fine with how things were. 

It wasn’t like she could just _date_ , really. Especially not an outsider, someone she could never tell what she actually did, let alone any of the details. And dating someone at S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed like an even worse idea. 

So, she’d just check the experience off her bucket list, and she’d remember the hours ( _hours_ ) she spent with Fitz fondly. It had been far too long since she’d experienced that kind of pleasure. And Fitz had been quite nice and funny, really. They’d spent almost as much time joking about nonsense and revealing harmless personal secrets as they spent…well. They had certainly come up with things they could do after using the sole condom, that was for sure. 

Getting dressed up and getting off the base to take herself on a date and spend some time above ground had certainly been worth the effort. 

Jemma smiled at herself, fluffed out her hair one more time, slipped on her lanyard, and left her room in search of pancakes and Daisy.

**

It had been three months since Jemma had had any sort of downtime. The lab had always demanded too much of her, especially since Callie died during the battle with Hydra. But after the public backlash against Inhumans had started to grow, she felt constantly pressured. In a way, S.H.I.E.L.D. going legit again had helped relieve tensions. The new director was an Inhuman, as was Quake, now revealed to have been working on the side of good.

Jemma sighed, remembering the sad weeks without her friend. She knew Lincoln’s death had been devastating for Daisy, even more so for being at Ward’s hands. The fact that they finally took Ward out for good was little consolation. But those events had left Jemma even busier as she struggled to work through the files and prototypes of Ward’s prisoner-slash-henchman while hoping Daisy was OK. With both Bobbi and Daisy gone, she’d had few friends in whom to fully confide. 

But now Daisy was back, and things were settling – as much as things ever settled within S.H.I.E.L.D. – and Jemma felt it was reasonable to assume that, soon, they might even have jobs that approximated normal ones. Nine-to-five seemed unlikely, but she could maybe go on the occasional date, take a weekend trip, whatever. Not that she had anyone to go with. 

Jemma immediately stifled the inner voice that suggested Daisy could probably easily find a guy named Fitz working in Chicago. Focusing instead on the business of the day, she pulled open the door and entered the briefing room. 

The meeting went quickly, with all senior members chiming in with their reports. It wasn’t until the end when Mace surprised her.

“Radcliffe has not been sticking to his parole requirements,” he announced. “It seems he’s built an android.”

Jemma blinked, processing the information, even as she could hear Mack mumble something about bad movies. 

“We’re going to bring an engineer over from the Sandbox,” Mace continued. “To take it apart and repurpose any tech.”

“He’s good,” Coulson added. “Figured out the cloaking for us. If everything works out, we might make the arrangement permanent and give Jemma a bit of a break.”

She smiled politely, already a swirl of emotions. Relief that she’d have help on something that was likely far outside her area of expertise. Offense that they thought she needed the help. Curiosity about this engineer and why she’d never heard mention of him before. Annoyance at Coulson for always keeping his assets a bit too close to the chest – Gonzales and the others hadn’t been entirely wrong on that count.

**

Jemma looked warily at the powered-down robot in the corner of the lab. The appearance of it was creepily human, definitely uncanny valley material, but she had no idea if its communication or mobility functions were equally disturbing. She was more than happy leaving that analysis for the engineer.

“Agent Simmons?”

Speak of the devil. She turned to face Mace, a welcoming smile on her face for the person she expected to be accompanying him. 

A smile that quickly faltered. She could feel the blood draining out of her face and she stopped breathing momentarily. Her only consolation? He seemed equally thrown.

“Agent Simmons,” Mace continued, surprisingly unobservant for someone who was supposed to be a spy, “this is the engineer from the Sandbox, Leo Fitz. Agent Fitz, Jemma Simmons.”

She reached out a hand automatically, cringing a bit at his double take when Mace said her name. He narrowed his eyes at her with something like accusation, but Jemma pretended she didn’t see it. The feel of his hand encasing hers as they shook in greeting sent her hurtling back to that night and all the ways he had used his hands. Jemma breathed out roughly.

“Agent Simmons,” Fitz greeted. His voice was quiet, and clipped in a way that was likely meant to be formal but felt strangely erotic. The accent was the same of course, and she realized her subconscious had captured it well in all the dreams she had been trying to ignore. “Jemma, was it?” he asked pointedly.

She didn’t trust her own voice though, so she simply nodded instead. Fitz let her hand go, perhaps a second later than he should have. And then – and then, she turned away, letting Mace be the one to bring him over to the workstation set up for him. Jemma breathed out slowly. She lifted a hand and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. 

She desperately wanted to talk to him. She desperately hoped she’d never be alone with him so she didn’t have to talk to him. She lasted all of five minutes before she excused herself, addressing no one in particular and receiving acknowledgment from three different lab techs. She didn’t dare check to see if Fitz responded at all. Instead, she rushed out of the room, searching for Daisy. 

She found her in the corner of the training room, observing as May demonstrated a hold to the newest members of the field team. Jemma scurried over, wrapping both her hands around Daisy’s arm, too tightly if her protest was any indication.

“It’s him!” Jemma hissed over Daisy’s attempt at speaking.

“Him who?” 

“The guy – the engineer! From the Sandbox. It’s _him_!”

“What do you – wait! The guy from the hotel?!”

Jemma nodded frantically. Daisy stared back at her, eyes wide, for several moments. And then she burst into very unhelpful laughter. Letting go of her arm, Jemma threw her hands up in the air.

**

Two days later, Jemma walked quickly, half-absorbed in the file she was reading. It was for that reason only that she didn’t see him approaching, or realize that there was no one else in the corridor, leaving them alone in each other’s presence for the first time since he arrived. And so, when he grabbed her arm and pulled her down a quiet side hallway, she yelped in surprise.

“You lied to me,” he accused, his voice shaking with emotion. She suspected that, like her, he had been holding things inside for too long. 

“You lied to me!” It was hardly the best comeback. Jemma felt like she probably wasn’t to blame for that, considering his body pressed hers against the wall and his face was close enough to kiss.

“At least I told you my real name,” Fitz pointed out.

Jemma sighed, closing her eyes to calm herself. From the confrontation, of course. Not from the feel of his skin or the memory of their night together. 

“It was a one-night stand,” she reminded him, opening her eyes again. He swallowed thickly, and she wondered-hoped-feared if her intentionally casual voice would frustrate him enough to… “Real names aren’t required,” she concluded. “In fact, it’s safer not to say them, even for people who _don’t_ work for secret organizations.”

“Well,” Fitz said, his eyes dropping briefly to look at her mouth. Jemma pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t lick them. “Since that’s all it was, then it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed.

He let her go and stepped back. Jemma’s body swayed involuntarily, as if she wanted to follow him, but she caught herself and made it look like she was simply straightening herself after his – his manhandling. He looked apologetic for a second, and then his face closed off.

“Good.”

“Great,” she confirmed.

He started to walk away. Jemma was determined to let him, not wanting to seem – “What were you even doing there anyway?” she blurted, feeling herself blush when he turned to face her again. “The Sandbox is nowhere _near_ – ”

He furrowed his brow. “Uh, yeah. Which is why I needed a hotel room while I was in town meeting with Coulson. What doesn’t make any sense is why _you_ needed one, unless it was just for seducing unsuspecting – ”

“Oh, please,” Jemma scoffed in offense, “as if you hadn’t started it by coming over – ”

“Won’t be making that mistake twice.”

“Like you would even have the chance.”

At that, Fitz shot her a quick glare, spun on his foot and stormed away. It would perhaps have been a more effective exit if he hadn’t almost accidentally walked into the corner of the wall where the two hallways met. Jemma exhaled, shoulders falling. She lifted her free hand, resting it above her pounding heart as she tried to slow her breathing. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was angry or aroused; she just knew she wouldn’t let Fitz get to her again.

**

Her conversation with Daisy died immediately when Fitz walked into the kitchen. Jemma desperately tried to speak again and continue discussing the latest developments between Mack and Elena. She certainly didn’t want Fitz to think they were talking about _him_.

When her mind and mouth failed her, Jemma simply looked at Daisy, opening her eyes wide to try to communicate.

“Hi, Fitz,” Daisy said, moving her leg aside when Jemma immediately tried to kick her. “How are you?”

He nodded, looking uncomfortable, finished pouring his tea, and left as soon as he could without a single word.

“ _Hi, Fitz, how are you??_ ” Jemma hissed.

Daisy shrugged, failing to hide her smirk around her spoonful of ice cream. “Speaking of relationship drama…”

“There is no relationship,” Jemma said forcefully. She couldn’t be quite as adamant about a denial of drama.

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have Bobbi back for these ice cream gossip sessions,” Daisy mused wistfully. 

Jemma huffed and scooped out another bite from their shared carton.

“You could at least _try_ for something.”

“I can’t even look at him without – ” Jemma began, then cut herself off. Any negative conclusion to that would be a lie.

“Without…?”

Jemma sighed. “Remembering how good he was at…”

There was a brief, but pregnant pause. “Good at _what_?” Daisy demanded. 

Jemma closed her eyes against the memory of Fitz looking up at her as he – of the slide of his tongue as he – of the way her fingers buried in his hair while he – of the feel of the bare skin of his shoulders pushing her thighs apart so he – 

She couldn’t stop the small moan and immediately pretended it was from the ice cream. A glance at Daisy indicated the ruse was unsuccessful. Jemma shook her head. 

“Let’s just say there are things he does with his mouth that are much better than arguing with me.”

**

“Good work, Fitz,” Coulson praised, as he stood behind Fitz and stared at the monitor while he gave his report.

Fitz nodded, trying not to preen. He was a grown man, for God’s sake, and he didn’t need any sort of paternal approval. Especially not from his boss. And that feeling of accomplishment certainly did not increase when Mack, on the other side, hummed in agreement.

“Yeah, well. Some of the code was quite advanced. Other parts were really rudimentary. Like the dynamic reaction force, which – ”

“How much more time do you think you’ll need on this?” Coulson interrupted. 

“Oh…a day, at most,” he estimated, trying to ignore the clutching feeling around his heart at the thought of leaving without…

“What would you say to sticking around here indefinitely? Mace agrees it would be a good idea.”

 _Yes_ , Fitz wanted to shout immediately. But – he couldn’t. He couldn’t be around her every day and – “I’m head of the whole science division at the Sandbox,” he reminded Coulson. “I don’t think I could work for – ”

“We can figure out the hierarchy here, satisfactorily for all parties, I’m sure.” 

Fitz hummed, pushing away from the desk and pretending to go work on something else. 

“And…” Coulson continued with an alarming degree of hesitation, “we don’t have the same restrictions against, well, interpersonal relationships.”

“It’s not like that!” Fitz denied, cringing internally at the pitch of his voice.

And it wasn’t. 

Fitz didn’t care that she lied about what she did or what her name was. He understood that, and had even done a version of it himself. He had even gotten over the fact that she hadn’t wanted his number or to _try_ for something more. 

But he couldn’t work there every single day and know that now, when she had the opportunity, when there were no more lies between them, she _still_ didn’t want him.

**

Fitz felt like a bit of a perv, watching Jemma out of the corner of his eye. He was ostensibly packing up his tools but not much packing was getting done. Not when she was pouring some reagent, gripping the bottle in a way that reminded him far too much of the way she had jerked him off in the early hours of the morning. She had laughed against his lips, mumbling about how it felt almost as good in her hand as it had inside her. He could barely keep his eyes open due to all the sensations, and he kept trying to kiss her, either to stop her saying anything more provocative or to heighten the connection between them. He had finally come with a shudder, his release spilling out and coating her hand and both their stomachs in the way that seems unbearably sexy at the time and unbearably disgusting later. Jemma had moved her hand to his lower back, transferring some of the wetness there, and pulled him closer, kissing him thoroughly until their skin ever-so-softly squelched from the contact and the sound ruined the moment.

Fitz was pretty sure he had fallen half in love with her at the bar, and the other half when she stopped kissing him and pulled him off the bed and into the shower, stumbling as she nearly shrieked with laughter.

There was no way he could stay here, no matter how tempting the job offer might be. 

He tore his eyes away from her. She was _just_ doing science, after all. There should be nothing sexy about that. He put the last of his tools into his case and realized that he was finished. The assignment was over and – 

The lights throughout the lab and in the outside corridor turned off all at once, followed by a whir of a generator kicking in. Emergency lighting shone blue around the edges of the room. Involuntarily, Fitz closed the distance between him and Simmons.

“What is happening?” he asked, having horrible flashbacks to the day the Sandbox fell for a few terrifying hours before S.H.I.E.L.D. regained control. No thanks to him cowering beneath his desk. 

Jemma reached under her bench, groping around for a moment only to emerge with a gun in her hand. Fitz stepped back in surprise. She checked the bullets, turned off the safety, and then turned towards the door. 

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Let’s find out.”

He wondered if she even realized that she took his hand in hers as they exited the lab. He was pretty sure he should not be so turned on by it, or by her bad-ass superhero impression.

**

Mack and Elena were the only ones who didn’t seem surprised that Radcliffe had another, newer version of the android, and that it had snuck into the base in search of its predecessor, along with any other S.H.I.E.L.D. secrets it could find.

But everyone was surprised, perhaps Fitz most of all, when he was the one to incapacitate her. Jemma supposed on one hand it made sense. He _was_ the resident expert after taking apart the older one. On the other hand… Fitz standing over the sparking body with Mack’s shotgun-axe in his hand… well, it _did_ things to her. 

She took a moment after the excitement and the debriefing where they decided to just burn that one to go and take a moment in her bunk. Once she felt sufficiently calm, she headed back out. In almost perfect(ly bad) timing, Fitz was walking past her room at the exact time she opened her door. He had his jacket on and his case in his hands, but he stumbled to a stop when he saw her.

They simply stared at each other. Under other circumstances, it could have been comical.

“Heading back to the Sandbox?” Jemma finally managed.

Fitz simply nodded. 

“Well…bye,” she said.

“Yep. OK then.”

Jemma waited for something _else_ , but when nothing came, she felt – angry? Sad? “Have a good life,” she finally said, sounding more resigned than the sarcastic dismissal she had aimed for. 

Fitz smiled humorlessly, moving his head in a half-nod, half-shake, and then started walking again. Jemma wanted to call out after him so badly, she could feel the words crawling up her throat. When he stopped again, she almost thought she _had_ spoken. Fitz turned to face her, his expression distraught yet determined. And after a moment, he strode back towards her, not stopping or even slowing until he reached her. 

He wrapped his free hand around the back of her head and pulled her into a kiss. Jemma’s verbal response was muffled and incoherent, but didn’t matter anyway, because her _non-verbal_ response was to fling her arms around him and tug him close. She nearly fell backwards as she stepped through the open door to her bunk, and she heard his case fall to the ground with a clatter as he tripped over her feet, he followed so closely. He kicked the case out of the way, closed the door, then pushed her up against it, never once separating from her for more than a moment before diving back into their kiss.

Jemma panted breathlessly, fighting a smile as she worked at the buttons of his trousers, ignoring his other clothes entirely in her impatience. She squeaked in surprise when he lifted her, crushing her against the wall the way she had imagined him doing ever since the time he had forced her into the – she practically hyperventilated when he ground against her, his hardening cock finding the perfect place along the seam of her jeans. Jemma groaned, giving up her efforts with his zipper and instead wrapping all four limbs around him, pulling him close and holding tightly as they rocked together. 

“Fuck, Jemma,” he moaned, pressing one hand to the wall next to her and shifting the other arm to hold under her bum even more securely. 

He broke the kiss, bending down to burrow his face between her breasts. Jemma threw her head back, uncertain if she was more turned on by everything they were doing to each other, or by the way her real name sounded from his lips when he was so aroused. 

She struggled against him for a moment, just enough so she could lower her feet to the ground. With the extra stability, she felt comfortable reaching around and pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. He understood her intentions pretty quickly, focusing his own activities on pushing down her clothes, and then his, just _enough_. 

Jemma looked over his shoulder so she could see what she was doing as she opened his wallet. There, in between several bills, was the condom she was looking for. 

“When did you buy this, hoping to use it?” she asked, with a breathless laugh.

“Shut up,” Fitz responded, not removing his mouth from where he sucked at her neck, but lifting one hand to grope at her breast.

And then her eyes narrowed. “Do you have _two_ in here? Very optimistic.”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Fitz growled. 

Jemma’s eyes rolled back in her head as he proceeded to ‘scold’ her. She forgot her teasing, dropped the wallet and drew her arms back, working quickly to unwrap the condom and roll it on him. As soon as it was ready, he hoisted her up again, only to lose his balance. With a shriek from her and rather inventive cursing from him, they fell to the ground. Jemma banged a knee pretty hard, and she winced at the sound of Fitz’s elbow hitting the floor. 

Neither of them moved for a long time, both breathing heavily and feeling pretty dazed. And then they made eye contact. Jemma shrugged. 

“Here’s good,” she declared, pulling Fitz back into a kiss. 

He went with no protest, settling on top of her and adjusting slightly before he pushed into her. Jemma held her breath until he was fully in, and then she couldn’t stop gasping with every subsequent thrust. She dug her fingers into the sides of his face, holding him steady and staring into his eyes. Her mouth was open wide, lips just barely touching his, and she suspected they were moaning and groaning a little too loudly right next to the door to the hallway that anyone could be walking down.

But she didn’t care.

And she _really_ didn’t care when, several minutes later, she shouted with her climax.

**

“So,” Fitz murmured some time later.

They hadn’t moved from the ground yet, and their clothes were still mostly on, but Fitz had shifted down to rest his head on her stomach. She had buried her fingers in his hair, and was hoping he’d finish the journey south as soon as he regained enough energy. Until then, she was pretty content like this.

“Hmm?”

“Mace and Coulson offered me a spot here.”

It felt like her heart stopped beating for a second. 

“What would – what would you think about that?” he added.

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. If only partly because her brain wasn’t able to think about much at all, at the moment. 

He nodded, but Jemma could sense his disappointment with the reply. She licked her lips and took a chance.

“Maybe we could talk about it over dinner.”

Fitz lifted his head, tilting it to look up at her. “Yeah?”

Jemma gave him a small smile.

“Yeah, OK,” he said, sounding more confident and much happier. 

“After we use that second condom,” Jemma added, smirking.

Fitz smiled, pushing off her and starting to slink upwards with a predatory air. Jemma stopped him with one hand braced against his shoulder. She indicated her lower body with a nod. Fitz caught on quickly.

“That’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

“Mmm,” Jemma confirmed, her eyes closing as he made contact. 

Second condom. Dinner. Store for many, many more condoms. And then…who knows.


End file.
